“Oh. Uh.” Morgan shifts on his feet. “No, not exactly.”
If there is a cat in the vicinity, then it is necessary that I introduce myself and give it behind-the-ear scratches. As I move toward the room producing the meow, he flies up behind me, protesting.
“You can’t go in there! A man is entitled to his secrets, you know!” Morgan holds up his hands in a pleading gesture. “Don’t be mad. I got carried away, and I was meaning to tell you—I only wanted to study them by myself for a day or two, so that I could try on what it feels like to be surrounded bymagical animals. You already know what that feels like now that Snapdragon’s been enchanted, so we’re even. Anyway, let’s go adventuring!”
I give him a once-over. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. How could I not be? You’re so lovely, with all that hair, it’s the color of the Great Red Spot—you know, the giant storm on Jupiter. And your eyes! The most bewitching I’ve ever seen, like the flames of a gas stove. Are those earrings new?”
I’ve been incorporating a dark witch vibe more heavily in my look lately—lots of moons and black jewels, glittery black lipstick and shawls. Deep purple nails. My earrings are silver scissors.
“You lying tart. What are you hiding?”
“I’m being genuine! I know I wasn’t before—and I know that I’vesaidI wasn’t before, and then said that I was, when I wasn’t.” He blinks as if he’s confused himself, mussing up his hair with his fingers. “But now, I genuinely am.”
I pat him on the back dismissively, not even trying to decipher that. “You’re absurd.” Then, at last, I see what Morgan’s been up to these past few days.
I don’t care about the untidiness—the jacket tossed over his headboard, some drawers of his dresser open and some not, clothes falling out. I am, however, mildly concerned about the number of ginger cats populating his bedroom.
A mangy old cat on the bed shoves its face against my hip and yowls. A second one is napping, nose twitching as it dreams. A third is scarfing down a plate of cold pepperonis.There are several others littering the floor; one is marking its territory on a sweater in the corner while maintaining aggressive eye contact with me.
I release a small sigh. “Of course.”
Morgan straightens, fingertips grazing his chest inWho, me?body language. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not surprised you’ve been up to something. All right, then. Tell me why you’ve got so many cats in your room.”
“Cats? Regular cats? You’re sure they aren’t gingersnappuses?”
I shrug. “Sorry to disappoint. Did you take these from the animal shelter?”
“No. The parking lot behind Moonville Market’s loaded with strays, and—” He points to the cat destroying pepperonis. “Not even that one? Are you sure?”
I pet the mangy one, smiling as it purrs. “Nope. Normal cat.”
“But he smells sostrange—okay, that isn’t the point.” He grasps my shoulders firmly and peers into my eyes, his features so solemn that it’s a challenge not to burst out laughing. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this serious-looking before, but even a Morgan at his most serious is impossible to take seriously. “I’m offended that you thought I was up to something.”
I can’t hold it in. My laugh hits him full in the face. “Youwereup to something.”
“Yes, but you should be surprised about it. And at least a little angry?”
What a puzzling development. “Why do you want me to be angry? I can hardly be disappointed in somebody I have no expectations of.”
He looks wounded. “Hey!”
“What are you upset about?”
Crash!
“What was that?” I peer around the corner, to a closed door, and Morgan sidesteps in front of it.
“Guess what?” he says. “I read somewhere that blue giant stars actually smell like Caesar salad dressing.”
He will not throw me off the scent, even though I am interested in both blue giant stars and Caesar salad dressing. I try to turn the handle, but he blocks me again.
“I’m worried you’ll end up getting hurt if you go in there,” he says anxiously. “This one is high-energy, good at hiding, scared of everything, and any time I spook him, he blows up. I can’t even describe to you, Zelda, what it was like to wake up with that thing on top of me.”
“Withwhaton top of you?”
